


Cure

by mallotovcocktail



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demon!Dean, human!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 10:54:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1507919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mallotovcocktail/pseuds/mallotovcocktail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Cas,” Sam whispered, biting out a small smile. Cas sat up from the pew he was sprawled across, scrubbing his eyes. He looked up to the alter.</p>
<p>Dean was hunched over, his head hanging forward, the cross behind him erupted from his shoulders. Sunlight was beginning to stream through the stain glass above Dean’s head. He was beautiful. Cas wanted to scream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cure

Castiel had been aware of how the story would play out months ago. He’d seen the look in Dean’s eyes, the hunger. He’d known the grace he housed like a foster child was imploding. He’d known what Dean would become, he’d known what would happen. He knew that Dean would blink black someday soon and that he would have to sink the blade into the Righteous Man’s ribs.

Castiel had been wrong. Castiel had not been human. Castiel hadn’t known anything.

The grace quivering in Castiel’s gut had consumed itself and, one day, Cas became human. It had happened quickly, his followers had noticed before he had himself. He was standing in front of the ragtag mob and explaining, fruitlessly, about free will. Nothing had changed in him physically. A small murmur had passed through the crowd. Cas had squinted.

“What?” Hannah had been the one to step forward.

“You’ve fallen,” she stated, as if it was news to him.

“As have we all.” His eyes narrows as the group snickered.

“Well, yes.” Hannah inclined her head. “But you are human.”

Cas had reached down in himself, searching for a spark of grace and finding none. He nodded and continued with his speech. Nothing had changed.

Cas had been human for the months that followed, his team of angels respecting him all the same. The real change came later.

Dean had called him, as he does, and sounded wrong. Cas became accustomed to Dean sounding this way, raw and full of holes. Dean had called him again and, for once, sounded real and whole. Dean had called him and said goodbye. Dean had known.

Cas left his gathering in silence. He started his car in the dead of night and left his rebellion without a word. He’d arrived in time to help the cause. Sam and Dean were preparing for the “final boss battle” as Dean would say, if Dean were himself.

As the blade sliced off Abaddon’s head, Dean growled, and it happened. 

Sam gasped, stepping forward. Cas threw out his arm, holding him back. Dean had known, had placed himself in the same seal in which they’d held Abaddon. He could not leave.

“What are we going to do, Cas?” 

They had tied Dean to a chair, ignored his hurtful, and extremely personal, utterances. 

Dean was singing _Baby Got Back_ mockingly at the other side of the church. Sam should not have been surprised, it was the same church as from before. Cas pulled out the tool set, eight empty syringes. Sam squinted.

“Cas, Dean would not want me to die to save him.” Cas smiled. Dean had never understood Sam, never known that Sam wouldn’t have sacrificed Dean’s free will to save him. Dean hadn’t understood how Sam cared. 

Sam remained silent as Cas pushed the needle into his forearm, the skin puckering and breaking. 

“You’re human again?”

“It would seem.” Blood was filling up the syringe slowly.

“How long?”

“Three months.” He extracted the needle, flexing his fingers, making a fist.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Sam balked. Cas ignored him and began to approach the demon wearing Dean’s face. He was suddenly overcome with gratitude that he didn’t have to view Dean’s soul, the imagined pain was enough.

“Cas.” Sam was following him. They stopped at the edge of the Devil’s trap. “He wouldn’t want this, either,” Sam whispered, placing an arm on Cas’ bicep.

“Baby in a trench coat,” Cas quipped, stepping into the circle.

Dean looked up, his head twisting in a starkly evil way.

“Cassie, welcome to my humble abode! I know it’s a bit messy; just moved in, what can you expect?” The smile that distorted Dean’s features faltered as he noticed the needle. He laughed. “Really, Cas? You’re gonna save me? Another time, huh? I’ll hate you for it.”

He nodded towards his arm. “Have at it. I know you’re just dying to undress me.” Cas got close enough to press his fingers to the flannel on Dean’s arm. He began to roll the fabric up, baring the skin until the Mark was winking at him. “I hate you for that too, you know.” Dean laughed as he bent his head away from it’s position tilted towards him. Cas flinched at Dean sudden closeness and sighed at the equally swift removal of Dean’s head from his personal space. 

Cas ripped the sleeve, wrapping the strip of fabric around the top of Dean’s arm.

“I loved this shirt,” Dean whined. A magnificent pout danced its way onto Dean’s features, his green eyes staring at Cas from below lashes. Cas plunged the syringe into the first vein he could find. Dean squinted at him. “You’re serious? You’re gonna try to cure me?”

Cas was ignoring him, pressing intently and watching his blood diminish as it entered the demon.

“Look, we get it, you care. Same old story, self-sacrifice, blah blah blah. Stop.” The demon was nervous, Cas smirked. He removed the needle, backed out of the seal, and turned on his heel.

Sam followed him to the corner in which they were camped out. Their base had all their weapons, what the boys had brought to take down Abaddon, and the blade. Cas sat on the pew. Sam sat next to him. They remained silent for the next hour.

\--

The cold metal pierced his skin and Cas suddenly relished the feeling. Sam was watching, staring at the blood.

“Back for seconds?” The smirk stung. Cas pushed into the demon’s space, pushing the syringe into the flesh directly below the offensive mark. Cas was bitter; an exclusively human emotion. Cas was shivering with it: his humanity. “You reek,” Dean wrinkled his nose, staring at the blood. “So human. So useless.”

Cas pressed the blood into the demon’s veins, eyes glued to the skin. 

Dean’s head lulled towards him. “This is useless.”

Cas retreated. 

“You’re useless,” Dean yelled after him.

\--

Sam was spending their free time entertaining him, catching Cas up on the things he’d missed. They talked about Kevin, Gadreel, and Sam asked about his followers.

“Cas!” Dean was yelling across the pews, his voice hard. It was the first time Dean had spoken while Cas was not in the trap. “You think I don’t know about your little crush? Do you think I’m not disgusted by it?” The volume made Cas jump. Sam stood, placing himself between Cas and Dean, catching Cas’ eyes. He smiled weakly. 

“It makes Sam uncomfortable too!” Sam was silent, eyes showing his disagreement, _he’s not Dean_. “I complain about it all the time. Why do you think I keep sending you away?!” Sam put his hand on Cas’ shoulder. Cas hissed in a breath. 

\--

Dean was silent the third hour.

\--

Cas was tired already, his arms tingling and his fingers twitching. Sam was watching him stoically. 

“Cassie, Cassie, Cassie. Do you think this will make me love you?” Dean waved his hand at the binded wrist, _this?_ Cas flinched, stabbing the demon’s arm again, again, again.

\--

Cas had fallen asleep. Sam shook him lightly, waking him for the next transfusion.

“Cas,” Sam whispered, biting out a small smile. Cas sat up from the pew he was sprawled across, scrubbing his eyes. He looked up to the alter.

Dean was hunched over, his head hanging forward, the cross behind him erupted from his shoulders. Sunlight was beginning to stream through the stain glass above Dean’s head. He was beautiful. Cas wanted to scream.

He walked to the front of the church, fist around the syringe, nails digging into his palms, leaving waning moons. 

He entered the trap, standing directly in front of the demon.

“Cas,” Dean whispered. His head rose slightly, showing Cas the tears that were falling down his cheeks. “Please, don’t do this.” Cas gaped at him. “I can’t lose you. Please, don’t do this. I’m not worth your life.” Dean, and he was Dean again, growled, looking up at the ceiling. “Please.” His voice was broken, fragmented. 

Cas plunged the needle into his skin, Dean sighed, a sound of pain and relief and sadness. 

Dean tried to catch Cas’ eyes. “Please,” Dean cried out as Cas turned his back.

\--

Metatron’s pop culture knowledge told him that the song Dean was humming lowly was _Hey, Jude_. 

\--

Cas was shaking, Sam said he was white as a sheet. Cas made a quip about the sheets at the bunker. Sam stared at him, worried.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said, even as the blood was being removed from Cas’ veins.

“The trails were what harmed you, not this.” They both knew that was true, but something was different here: Cas was a pathetic imitation of a human, using more blood that he’d ever shed. The grace inside of him had pulled him apart. This was the end, it was clear. Sam nodded, a lie.

Dean was watching him approach.

“Stop,” Dean commanded. Cas stepped into the trap. “Cas. Stop.” He didn’t. The metal pressed into Dean’s skin. “Fucker,” he hissed. The blood moved slowly, Cas felt nauseous. 

“Cas, you fucking idiot. Stop it.” Cas had discarded his coat hours ago, his white shirt sleeves rolled up. Blood staining where it leaked from the puncture wounds. Dean was twisting in his restraints. “Fuck! Cas!” 

“Exorcizamus te,” Cas started, his throat dry from disuse. 

“Don’t you get it, Cas?” Dean’s voice was softer now.

“Omnis immundus spiritus.”

Dean shook his head. “You still don’t get it. Human and you’re still too stupid to see.”

“Hanc animam redintegra.” Cas was shaking, his knee buckling.

“Cas!” Dean was yelling again. “I don’t want this! Stop. I need you alive. I need you!”

Cas fell to his knees. He let his head fall to Dean’s leg, stupidly. He was barely breathing now.

“Lustra.” Shaking was taking over, his teeth snapping, his tongue twisting in pain.

“I love you, you stupid fuck!” Dean was staring at Cas desperately. His fingers were twitching, reaching towards Cas. Sam was there, loosening the restraints.

“Lustra."

The light was blinding but quick, less than a millisecond. Dean was human, so painfully human, again. Cas smiled, proud, successful. Dean was untied. He fell to the floor, grabbing Cas’ body.

“Cas!” He was screaming, he was crying, Cas was dying. Cas reached up to cup Dean’s cheek. “You fuck. Fuck you.” Dean was shaking his head violently. “Don’t leave me again, fuck, please. _Cas_.” He pressed his lips to Cas’. Cas used his remaining strength to reciprocate, his lips slotting into Dean's. He fell limp. “I love you, Cas,” Dean was whispering. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” Fires burned across Dean’s chest, sorrow and grace pouring from and into him; licking his skin, marking his soul again, again.

\--

Cas had been human when he died, but scorch marks still burned from his back. He had his wings back in death. Dean chose to believe that meant he was forgiven, absolved, in heaven, happy. Sam had pulled Dean away from Cas’ body, tending to the burns on Dean’s chest. 

Dean had wings now too, etched into the expanses of skin that spread across Dean’s heart; how righteous.


End file.
